


All By Myself

by Hoppskibjack



Category: Bandom, Green Day, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Alcohol, Anal Sex, Billie cares only for Scrabble and Adie, Hot Tub, M/M, Masturbation, Naked Cuddling, Oral Sex, Revolution Radio Era, Scrabble arguments, The guys all have their partners, Tour Bus, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-14
Packaged: 2019-01-08 08:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12250776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoppskibjack/pseuds/Hoppskibjack
Summary: Mike just wanted some time all by himself, like the song says. He thought he had it. On a tour bus though, are you ever really all by yourself?





	1. All By Myself

**Author's Note:**

> No sex in the first part, second part will take place later and not on a tour bus and is rated explicit.

Mike let out a long sigh. He was exhausted and sore from the evening’s performance and all he wanted was a hot drink, a nap and his own bed. God, was this what getting old really felt like? He couldn’t complain too loudly, he was on a tour bus with his band mates, barreling down the road towards the next venue to promote Revolution Radio. Billie and Tre were engaged in a high stakes Scrabble game (the winner got to pick out the outfit for the loser for the next show) so when Mike had said he was going to attempt a nap he was waved away with good-natured but pre-occupied grunts. 

He walked down the hall away from his bandmates, and into the second bedroom closing the door behind. Flopping down onto the bed he closed his eyes. His body may have been exhausted but his mind was still buzzing from the last show. Right now though he just wanted to relax. 

If he concentrated he could just hear an argument starting down the hall at the scrabble board. He assumed it was because of a word Billie had made up, but knowing the guitarist and drummer it could have been about pretty much anything. The voices got louder and Mike smirked, he had been involved in scrabble arguments before, they were a serious matter. He set his phone on the bedside table, saved from his pants pocket before he wriggled out of his jeans to lay back on the bed in t-shirt and briefs. Tapping his phone, he put his usual music playlist to shuffle and made it loud enough to drown out Billie and Tre, then tried closing his eyes. An idea quickly surfaced in his mind, brought on by the adrenaline receding from the show and the rhythm of the music quietly replacing it. 

His hand drifting down his stomach, his eyes closing tighter as long fingers found their way under the elastic of the briefs, pulling it out of the way and down his hips just enough for his hand to wrap around his dick and free it. He let out a sigh as his hand found that familiar rhythm and the cool air hit his skin. The song in the playlist changed and it made him think of Brittney, even more than he already was. He was still weeks away from seeing her and Mike groaned half out of frustration and half out of the images of her that sent blood spiralling straight to his dick. He ran his other hand through his hair, huffing out a moan as a climax started building. He cared less about making noise, between the distance between himself and his bandmates, the door, and the music some part of his brain seemed to think he would be fine. Years ago he wouldn’t have cared, but as they got older (and drank less) the band seemed to avoid loudly masturbating in their tour bus between shows.

He ran his free hand down his stomach and sides, digging his nails into the flesh and sending little shivers of pain throughout his body. Mike was swept up in the warm pool gathering in his stomach and didn’t notice the song change right away, nor the seconds of silence before the singer started singing. When Tre’s voice came through the speakers accompanied by an acoustic guitar he did let out a groan, but couldn’t be bothered to open his eyes and find his phone to change the song. The irony of “All By Myself” wasn’t lost on the bassist, he was just so close enough to coming that he couldn’t care.

Yet Tre’s voice was doing something else, more than providing a backdrop it was peppering his mind with the few times the two had celebrated shows together, warm bodies and limbs entangled, trying to not wake Billie in the dark. Hands clasped over mouths to stifle the cries as Mike plunged into a hot, tight orifice. The memory of Tre’s hand around his dick replaced his own and the soft blanket bunched next to him was replaced in his mind by a warm body. He swore under his breath as he got closer, jerking his leg out of the way as something brushed against it. He dismissed the feeling, he was too close to care as he finally came in hard, gasping jerks shooting into his shirt (dammit!) and the blanket. 

Mike lay gasping for what seemed like forever, the song having changed to a slower folk song. He pulled off his shirt and cleaned himself off, tossing the soiled piece of clothing near one of his suitcases to be laundered with his stage clothes. When he sat up however, he saw a piece of paper that hadn’t been there when he came in leaning against his foot. 

It was a print out Tre had promised to get him from Sara about a coffee bar in the next city. He swallowed. He didn’t bother to put a shirt on, just pulled on his jeans and walked out to where Billie was winning another game by a substantial margin. 

Tre was humming. 

Mike looked at Tre. Tre looked at Mike and grinned. 

“You were alone… you were all by yourself..,” Tre sang softly under his breath and Mike reddened just a little. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about dude.” Mike said simply and sat down next to Billie. Billie rolled his eyes and Tre gave an innocent little shrug. 

“I mean I’m flattered,—” Tre began, before Billie interrupted, “are we playing, or what?”

Mike let out a breath and grabbed a book hoping to ignore where his skin felt flushed and warm. 

Tre played the word ‘erection’ and Billie giggled. 

“I play what I see,” The drummer said with a small shrug and with an eyebrow wiggle glanced at the bassist for any sort of reaction. Mike knew him well enough to know this was going to go on for a few more days. He’d spending off time avoiding the topic and stage time trying to not think of Tre’s hand wrapped around his…

That’s when the realization hit him like a bass neck to the nose. He was more embarrassed that Tre hadn’t said anything when he walked in on him, or possibly joined in than just the fact that Tre had walked in, seen him seemingly jerking off to him singing and then left. 

He buried his nose in his book and tried to ignore thoughts of what may have happened if Tre had made him aware of his presence. He was too old for this shit, but apparently not too old that he was feeling the first stirring of another erection so soon after coming once. Dammit.


	2. Solution to Awkward Times

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The band is on break from their tour and Mike has to confront Tre about the whole incident on the tour bus and some unresolved feelings he has for the drummer.

People milled around Tre and Sara’s house, carrying mostly empty bottles of beer and soda and setting aside empty plates on counters and tables. The get together and BBQ to celebrate the break in tour had started at noon and now as 9pm approached people were starting to trickle out and Mike watched from across the room as Tre, acting as host, was saying goodbye to people. Sara hadn’t been at the BBQ, something to do with a gallery opening in New York, but she had sent her best wishes along with Brittney and Adie and left plenty of instructions for being a good host with Tre. 

Brittney took Mike’s arm, breaking his wandering thoughts and standing next to him. She gently rubbed his bicep to get his attention even as she glanced around the room. “Go talk to him.” 

Mike glanced over at his wife with a small smile in the corner of his mouth. She always seemed to know what he was thinking before he did and more often than not knew how to fix it. This time however, he did know and had been trying to figure out a way to fix it since he had arrived. “It’s not that simple,” he stated, glancing back to watch Tre talking to a few of the crew. The room was thinning and Mike gave it five or six minutes at most before they were the last one there. “This is Tre we’re talking about, he’s not going to take the whole thing seriously.” The look on her face made him sigh. “I shouldn’t either, it’s not a big deal, Britt.” 

“Yes, it is.” Her voice was stable and firm, just like her. Mike silently mused. “This has been under your skin for at least a week Mike, talk to Tre and get through it, all of it,” she punctuated those three words with pokes of her finger, “however you need to do that is fine by me, and then move on.” 

He wrapped an arm around her, pressing a kiss to her lips and sighing. Her words, ‘however he needed to do that’ was loud and clear to him, but less clear for someone eavesdropping who might not understand. “Thank you. I love you, baby. You make it sound so easy.” 

She gave a little shrug and smiled before turning to face him. “Mike, sweetie, you’ve been friends with Tre for forever and more than just friends for some of that time, too.” 

How did he get so lucky? His heart was bursting for love for this woman and yet he was considering something with Tre? He knew he wasn’t smiling anymore and Brittney shook her head, abandoning her train of thought. 

“Do what you have to do,” she shushed him when he went to disagree, “don’t you worry about me, I’ll get a lift home with Adie and Billie so you can take the car back. Talk to him Michael, work this out and have some fun. I won’t wait up.” She grinned, quickly kissed him again and turned to walk over and say goodbye to Tre.

Mike watched her catch up to Adie, saw Adie and Billie glance back to him and Billie maintained eye contact for just a second longer. Those unspoken words of “should I be concerned?” were etched on Billie’s face and Mike chuckled and shook his head. It took a second, but the guitarist seemed satisfied and nodded, wrapping his arms around both women’s shoulders as they laughed and walked through the door held open by a smiling Tre. 

Then there was just Mike and Tre. 

Mike blew out a breath, taking his time to walk over to Tre who was surveying the pool area from the open door, drinking the dregs from a bottle of craft beer. This was awkward. He felt awkward. If he were honest, Mike had never felt this awkward around the drummer since… well, since ever and it gnawed at him. The remainder of this leg of their tour had gone well, there hadn’t been any awkwardness on stage or even during soundcheck. The problem was during the downtime between performances, when the guys were cooped up in busses and trying find ways to pass the time. 

At first, it was just Tre’s gentle jokes about Mike jerking off to him singing, then that escalated (as was to be expected when it was getting reactions) and then came the dreams. Vivid, lewd dreams featuring both members of the rhythm section that meant Mike was waking every morning with a morning wood to end all morning woods. Then came Mike losing his temper at the usual “Tre Cool behaviors” that for all these years he had laughed at and with. Billie, of course had tried to fix the problem to no success. 

When Mike had Skyped home and finally talked to Brittney about it, feeling guilty about the whole thing she had laughed and told him to just fuck him and get it over with. Of course, Mike thought, she was kidding. 

The joke had helped smooth things over a bit until he got home and then one night, after the kids were in bed and both of them were relaxing with garbage TV quietly playing in the background, Brittney explained she hadn’t been kidding. Something was going on and maybe that was how they could fix things?

It had been years since Mike and Tre had had sex. Their experiences together had been limited to quick, dark forays in the Bookmobile mostly when they were drunk or high to release some tension. They had to be in the right mood to progress to that stage, unlike Billie and Tre who really had a proper relationship of sorts going on at one point. That just wasn’t their style though. 

When he thought about it, they hadn’t done anything since before their first tour bus. Tre was married and then divorced, then Mike did the same and so on always chasing another relationship. He had opted to seek comfort from Billie after divorces (Adie understood…) then Mike found Brittney and Tre found Sara with all that detailed of kids and responsibilities. The coming together of that song and his need to jerk off had been an interesting grouping of events that sparked something.

“If you’re sticking around to clean I’m not paying you.” 

Mike glanced up, meeting Tre’s gaze and his grin with his own. “That cheap you get your bandmates to clean?”

“Bandmate,” Tre said in correction, setting down the beer bottle, “Billie was smart and ran away with his lady and yours before I could ask.”

“Brittney wanted to make sure the babysitter didn’t have to sit up too long.” Mike lied and leaned against the wall, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Tre was eyeing him, not saying anything out loud, but to Mike he was thinking loudly. 

“Mhm. Well, she told me you wanted to talk,” he said, seemingly satisfied with whatever he had been looking at outside and finally closing the door to the pool. He gave a little shrug. “Talk is overdue, if you ask me, I would love to have something stronger than beer for this though.” 

What kind of talk did Tre think this was? Mike sat on the couch, listening to the rustling of something in the kitchen before Tre came back in with two glasses of brown liquor and sat next to him. With a smile Mike accepted a glass of whiskey and the two clinked glasses. 

“I’ve been an ass.” Mike blurted out after taking a sip from his glass. The words just came out and even Tre looked slightly surprised with the ease in which he said them. 

“Yeah, you have. A colossal ass, it’s a wonder you fit into those skinny jeans.” 

Mike chuckled, he expected nothing less from Tre. He dropped his head to study the liquor that he swirled in the glass. “Things kind of went to shit.” 

“It’s not like you to get worked up because of my jokes.” Tre said and Mike was suddenly aware of how focused Tre was on the conversation, how seriously he was taking it. They were getting old, he thought and he swatted that thought as far away as he could. 

“It’s not your jokes Tre,” Mike said, sighing and scratching the back of his neck. “It’s not something you did. It’s me, some part of my mind is just fucked up.” He growled out a sigh, frustrated and then downed what was left of the liquor in his glass and set it on the table next to him. He was too old for this shit, he wasn’t a teenager that needed to fuck all the time to live. 

He felt a hand rest on his shoulder, squeezing and releasing the leather vest that covered it and a black t-shirt. He glanced over to see the drummer staring at him with a bemused expression on his face. “Hey, I’m fucked in the head, too.” His expression was soft, his voice was gentle and Mike had to nod in agreement. “That’s why we work so well together, best rhythm section in the world,” Tre continued, “this is a different kind of fucked though. This is an irritated kind of fucked...” 

Mike took a deep breath. That was one way to put it. Tre was looking at him, like he was mentally sizing him up. Mike found himself taking a sip out of the new glass Tre had poured at some point. 

“Have you been having the sex dreams, too?” 

Mike froze, setting down the glass and staring hard at the man sitting next to him. “Ha ha,” he sarcastically laughed, “Really not not funny Tre.” 

“I’m not being funny, I’m asking a question.” Tre looked as serious as a heart attack and it unnerved Mike, but he stayed silent and thankfully Tre continued. “I’ve been having weird sex dreams with you in them ever since I walked in on your jerking and coming while I was singing “All By Myself.” 

“So have I.” There, he said it. Mike felt like a weight had been momentarily lifted off his chest. He wasn’t embarrassed to say it, he was embarrassed by what might come of that information.

“Any involving a bathtub of roasted cauliflower?” Tre asked, his face blank from expression.

Mike snorted out a laugh and felt some tension break away, “can’t say I have. You?” 

Tre gave a little shrug, “only six or seven times, but it was always Sara.” He glanced at Mike who laughed again, taking another drink of whiskey. “Lately it’s been you though.” 

Mike felt a little swirl of warmth and realized it wasn’t from the whiskey he was drinking. He just looked at Tre for a long moment, considering that less than favourable fact that they both had gotten older and in both their circumstances grown denser. He was actually checking the other man out, and did so long enough that Tre actually tipped his head to the side and raised his eyebrows. He didn’t say anything though and Mike eventually looked away. “I was disappointed you didn’t join in…” he said finally, looking down at his glass with a smile. “You came in and left that paper, but I didn’t even know you were there.” 

Tre looked a little startled by that and he set the glass down with some of the liquor still colouring the bottom of the vessel. “I almost did. Fuck.” He planted his face in his hands and shook his head slowly, before scrubbing his hands down and looking back at Mike. “I wanted to just grab you and jerk you off myself,” Tre said and when Mike’s eyes opened wide, he gave a little shrug. “I walked in on you jerkin’ off to me singing. It was really hot.” Tre pressed against Mike’s side and with it Mike again felt the warm beginnings of desire creeping through his blood adding onto the warmth and comfort the alcohol brought. 

“We could fix that,” he said turning to look at the blue haired rocker. He felt outside himself, full of something that drove him forward to press his lips into Tre’s. There was a moment of nothing, but before panic could settle Tre was pressing back, snaking an arm around Mike’s neck to deepen the kiss, and gingerly swiping his tongue out to taste the droplets of whiskey on Mike’s lips. Mike reached to cup the back of Tre’s head twining his fingers into the hair to pull him back slightly and to light up the nerve endings on Tre’s scalp.

“You remembered,” Tre muttered against Mike’s lips which curled up into a smile in response. 

“How could I forget?” He tightened his grip and this time Tre smiled as he let out a soft moan in reply and tipped back his head. Mike kept his grip, taking his time to run his tongue across the other man’s lips, dipping it in and out until Tre was squirming on the couch. 

“Stop being a tease,” Tre said, his voice then trailing off the last word into another low moan as Mike’s tongue ran slowly down his neck. He quickly added, “nono, keep doing that…” 

Mike didn’t reply, long fingers letting go of Tre’s hair and unbuttoning his shirt as his mind swam with questions. He unbuttoned the last button and pulled the shirt open to expose the skin underneath, and with a glint in his eye used his calloused fingertips to roll one nipple and then the other, smiling at the noises the other man made. Their eyes met briefly and Mike found himself slipping off the couch to his knees, shucking off his leather vest. Nothing was said as Tre reached down and pulled off Mike’s t-shirt, discarding his own right after. 

“Does Britt know?” Tre’s voice was light, but his eyes were wondering and pleading, a mixture of a bunch of emotions hidden in blue pools. 

Mike nodded, with the action set to pause he suddenly felt a bit silly kneeling next to the couch, but smiled when he remembered their conversations. “It was practically her idea. What about Sara?” 

“Oh yeah,” Tre said and Mike could swear there was a blush on his cheeks and a flush on his neck. Was Tre embarrassed? “We have an arrangement.” Silence for a long moment before Tre tacked on, “We don’t deserve our wives.” Mike couldn’t agree more. Tre stood, reaching down a hand to help Mike up. 

He tucked two fingers into the waistband of Mike’s jeans and pull/walked him down the hall to the spare bedroom. Pushing him through the doorway Mike’s hands were batted away from the button of his jeans and his complaints ignored. Tre’s fingers instead took great care to unbutton the snug jeans Mike was wearing and then peel them off one leg at a time. Mike’s stomach was doing little cartwheels as his briefs were removed, followed by the quick shucking of Tre’s pants and underwear as well. Tre dropped unceremoniously to his knees to stare up at Mike. 

“Fuck.” The word slipped out, but it was appropriate given the circumstances and what he saw in front of him. Tre’s lips were slightly swollen and the flush on his neck distracting. Was he waiting for permission? “You’re killing me, man.”

Tre grinned. Not a sheepish grin, but a ‘dammit man you’re not on stage’ kind of brilliant grin that he saw made Mike smile as well and, more importantly, made his cock twitch. He opted out of any sort of lead up and instead took as much of Mike’s cock as he could into his mouth.

The moan that came after that almost surprised Mike, despite the fact that he was the one that made the sound. It felt really warm and wet and… good. It just felt really fucking good. He smoothed his hands through Tre’s hair, focusing on the blue bobbing head rather than closing his eyes. He wanted to remember this for whatever might happen in the future so it didn’t have to be another awkward meeting with one of his best friends. He felt a pang of something like a realization, he couldn’t quite place the emotion before the sensations rocketed back to him. 

He felt Tre nip the sensitive skin, surprising him with a pinch, jolting him back. It was also like sparking a match and he groaned again pulling Tre’s head further onto his cock. The other man gagged once, adjusting himself to be in a better position to take more without a complaint. Mike swore under his breath, unable to get any harder, and straining now to keep from fucking his skull. That wasn’t how he hoped it would go, he wasn’t going to fall apart like this.

Mike tugged on Tre’s head, causing the drummer to back up and let the cock fall out of his mouth. Mike’s eyes met his and Tre reflected back a look of confusion punctuated by lust blown pupils. 

“Bed?” Tre asked and Mike nodded, pulling him up onto his feet and into another kiss. The blond let his hands roam and Tre’s did the same, caressing and touching and attempting to map each other’s bodies. They had done this before. The difference was this time they were almost entirely sober, in a clean half-lit bedroom instead of the almost pitch black of the dirty Bookmobile. Tre hummed his approval with each touch from Mike’s hands, each note of sound edging him on. That was Tre in a nutshell really, always edging him on and keeping him going without ever overshadowing him. 

They both hit the bed at roughly the same time, Tre wriggling close to the edge to grab a condom and a bottle of lube from the nightstand next to the bed. He flicked the condom at Mike who caught it, ripping the package open and put it on. Mike then felt any blood he had left jolt down to his dick as Tre had turned on his side, his back to Mike and started to open himself up, scissoring two lube coated fingers and then three much to Mike’s amazement. 

“Fuck.. Tre…” he said, wondering when his mouth had gotten so dry. That sight would be tucked away in his brain for another night when he was all by himself. When he pulled his hand away, Mike pushed him onto his back. He quickly moved between Tre’s legs, placing them on his shoulders and lifting his hips. The other was watching him with a relaxed if neutral face, but completely silent. When Mike started to press in Tre let out a soft hiss, his eyes momentarily closing and his back arching slightly. 

Mike fought the urge to go harder and faster right away. When he was finally all the way in he slowly came almost all the way out, pulling a moan from Tre that made Mike slow down even more. 

They had never been slow in their encounters, always rough and ready and quick, just like their life at the time. It was always about who might find out or running out of time. They had never had a leisurely fuck in their time together. So Mike tried really hard to make it this time, even as the maddening pace threatened to make him scream, he kept it slow and drawn out. 

When he just couldn’t take it anymore and Tre’s moans had turned to almost whines he picked up the pace and snapped his hips a little harder. He could feel his own orgasm coming closer and wrapped a hand around Tre’s dick to give it a few rough pulls. Mike came first and then Tre a couple moments later with a shout, digging his nails into Mike’s back. 

The room was quiet except for the panting of the two men and then the creak of the bed as Mike pulled out and went into the attached bathroom to dispose of the condom and grab a wet washcloth for Tre. He handed it to the other man and walked a short path next to the bed shifting his weight and working a kink out of his foot. 

The kink was pretty much gone by the time Tre re-emerged from the bathroom, he pulled on boxers and stooped to toss Mike’s his. Both of them dressed without saying a word and then sat down on the end of the messed up bed.

“Two weeks until the next show.” Tre said breaking the silence and Mike gave a little nod. Then Tre added, “Sara doesn’t get back until dinner time tomorrow.”

Mike glanced over at this bit of information he had been handed and saw Tre smiling, this time maybe a little bit sheepishly. “Well, I probably shouldn’t drive as I’ve been drinking,” Mike responded and that grin broadened just a bit. A grinning Tre that you knew wasn’t trying to prank you was a beautiful thing. “Since this was a long time coming, mind if I spend the night?”

“Of course!” Tre replied enthusiastically. He put on the worst accent he could to say, “me casa, su casa!” After a beat he grabbed Mike’s shoulder and whispered, “we can drink expensive whiskey naked in the hot tub.”

Mike laughed, a quick uproarious laugh and hugged Tre with one arm. “Love it. One second, let me text Britt.”

He dug his phone out of his pocket, texting his wife with a simple: _Be home early tmrw AM. Xo_

The response came back just as quick: _K. Be safe. XX_

Mike smiled and put his phone away, joining Tre to collect the bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Night was already fully upon them and walking out to the hot tub, disrobing and getting in was lit just by the landscaping lights. When they were both in the water, peppered with jets and bubbles, Mike pulled Tre back into him with an arm across his chest, holding him there as Tre attempted to free himself. 

“Remember that time we had sex while Billie was sleeping? He woke up and we tried to convince him that what was in his hair was spit from a fan not our lube?” Tre said animatedly, forgetting about freeing himself, and coming to rest back against Mike’s chest. 

Mike laughed, “it wasn’t just lube…” and let Tre go on further with the story, happy to feel normal again and not awkward around one of his best friends for what was, he knew a very stupid reason. He slipped down and let the jets massage his shoulders and pinched Tre when he started to quietly sing “All By Myself.”


End file.
